I recently purchased some peaches at the grocery store. Peaches taste almost as good as brownies right now. Both taste comparably worse than coffee, but my OB frowns on coffee while pregnant, something about increasing chances of miscarriage. I have to admit that is a dirty tactic when it comes to banning foodstuffs from pregnant ladies. For some reason I can break all the rules that lead to MY personal discomfort, but not the ones that hurt that little life on the inside.
Now peaches are one of those foods best purchased in stages. You pick some that are soft for now and some hard for later. I didn't have kids at the grocery store so I used time to weed through and pick peaches that would pretty much be the right soft at a rate of about one a day. This afternoon I went in to grab the one nice soft peach for dessert. Nani, Cora and Nyobi already scarfed down cookies, so I figured my peach was safe.
Wrong assumption. Cora appeared like a little bird demanding part of my "apple". Once she called it a peach, I realized I was required under the good Mom rule to share. After all, I assured myself. Cora doesn't like peaches, they have fuzz on the outside.
A few bites later, her little hands divested my fingers of the peach. In two minutes she returned to me the pit, said "Thank You, Mom. I'm full."
Well, at least she used her manners the little peach thief.